Corolla
by green see-through ghosts
Summary: It takes a lot of petals to form a flower. Surprisingly, it also takes a lot of people, some knowledgeable, some not so much, to follow through with the best plots. Who would have thought? AU, multi-chapter, HidaTema, DeiHina, ItaSaku.
1. Temari's Nightmare

This is part one of part one! The next two chapters will be introducing the other players and developing the setting a bit more...I LOVE BREAKS FROM SCHOOL! ...and I've no idea how long this will be...

**Corolla **by **green see-through ghosts**

WARNING: some bad language from Hidan, but honestly, it's to be expected...

* * *

"Why?" Temari grumbled as she shifted viciously into fifth gear, jolting the entire car as she floored the clutch too late, then stomped down heavily on the gas pedal. "It's ridiculous that I have to get finger-printed every-time they switch my position title. You'd think that my employer would have to keep this crap on file!"

"I'm sure there's a good reason for it," Kankuro mumbled without feeling -- without believing -- hardly glancing up from his magazine as his older sister swerved into the left lane of the highway without slowing down.

"There is no good reason for it," she snapped. The car jerked forward, then slowed; then jerked forward, then slowed. Kankuro finally looked up, annoyed, but didn't bother to speak when he saw her anger. When Temari was angry, you didn't tell her that her driving sucked. It was a rule that he had learned long ago, as soon as she got her license at sixteen.

"They switch my title from 'cliental assistant' to 'back-desk teller' and I have to go through this crap all over again," she complained, teal eyes narrowed into slits, annoyance visible in every movement made. "It's ridiculous. I swear, if it happens again, I am going to-"

"-quit this stupid job," Kankuro mouthed with her, magazine held just high enough to shield the predictive action from her view. She glanced over anyways, and, quickly enough that she didn't suspect him, he lowered the magazine and asked, "What time does Gaara need-"

"One-thirty," Temari snapped, swerving back into the right lane to pass a monstrous truck with fishing bumper-stickers plastered on the back window. "So go straight to the psychiatrist's, okay? You know he hates waiting."

"Right," Kankuro said with a conspicuous eye-roll. This time, Temari did notice.

"Listen, Kankuro, it's not my fault that I have to do this stupid back-ground check again. And," as she pulled into the left lane again, "it's not like I make you do this often. I mean, good grief, you never drive for Gaara. I am always picking him up, even when I have dinner to make and tests to study for. And when's the last time I've got to see my friends? You-"

"Chill out, Temari," Kankuro ordered, graciously refraining from making any comments about _What friends?_ "I'm picking him up, okay? You don't have to be so psycho about it."

"I am not being psycho." And she shifted down to fourth, forgetting that it was always a good idea to press the clutch against the floor before doing something like that.

The engine revved loudly; the car jerked violently. Temari gasped, frustrated, as her foot slid off the gas pedal. Kankuro, unprepared for the jerk, cracked his head against the door, before she slammed the clutch and completed the shift.

"You suck at driving," he complained angrily, rubbing his forehead and blinking hard.

"Shudup."

Without applying more pressure to the gas pedal, Temari released the clutch.

There was a single moment of dead silence after the gears grinded, the car screamed, and everything came to a jolting halt. Then, as Kankuro started yelling hysterically at nothing in particular and the sound of squealing tires invaded her ear-space, Temari let her chin drop to her chest, thoroughly defeated.

_I hate. My life_.

----

"Miss?"

Temari lifted her head and turned her terrifying glare on the elderly policeman who'd just spoken. The station was buzzing with constant noise -- ringing phones, arguing voices, slamming doors, and the low drone of the news playing from the TV suspended in the far-left corner. It was draining, distracting, and annoying.

Temari had been putting up with it for the last three hours.

"What?"

"We've finished filling out your report," the officer said, unfazed by her attitude. From the looks of things, he'd been around too long for much to phase him; his iron-gray hair was buzzed short, and the scars on his face spoke of fist-fights, and lots of them. "You're free to go. Just remember about the hearing three weeks from now."

Temari didn't even try disguising the contemptuous look that crossed her face. This _wasn't _what she'd come here to do.

"Josh said you needed to be finger-printed, right?" the officer continued, ignoring her unsatisfactory responses.

"Yeah," Temari muttered as she stood up, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder before gathering up the various documents scattered across the work-table -- license, proof of insurance, insurance contact card -- all the things necessary when you were responsible for a three-car collision in the middle of the highway. More like three-car accident, she satirized to herself. After all, her car hadn't even been scratched; it was the truck that had hit the culvert and the minnie-van that had flipped a few times. No one had so much as a scratch, and yet Temari was just waiting for the greasy lawyer with bad hair to walk up, slap a document in her face, and declare, "You've been served."

"Well then, come on," the old police-man ordered. "It's almost closing time."

_Ha_, she thought grimly. _As if there is every really closing time at a police station in this town._

Granted, she hadn't had to spend much time in one since her father had finally croaked. Neither had she had any dealings with the few officers that she recognized; and maybe, since no one took a second glance at her, she'd grown up enough that none of them recognized her. But, just to be on the safe side, she made sure that the tiny fan in the front pocket of her purse was still present.

You never knew when a bit of wind might come in handy. And, in her fan's case, size could be so very deceiving.

Temari stuffed the papers and cards into her bag and followed the man across the crowded floor, wishing that she hadn't run out of Ibuprofen after dealing with that cranky bastard at the bank the day before. The headache she had now made the other look much like a splinter compared to a gunshot wound.

The cop lead her through a swinging door and into an even louder section of the station. Temari winced as noise after noise barraged her aching head -- shrieking babies, conversing mothers, little men shouting in different languages, secretaries trying to be heard over the noise. The moment passed, though, and soon the two of them were moving down a long, brightly lit hallway, passing by wood door after wood door with various plaques in place. Although the silence was virtual bliss, it also made Temari think about just how long she'd sat in the noisy room filling out papers and contacting her insurance company. To take her mind off her frustration, she studied the plaques absentmindedly, noting the names and positions printed beside city-police coat-of-arms.

D. Iwa, Arson Investigator.

S. Nara, Missing Persons Investigator.

P. Fuma, Alias Specialist.

K. Hoshigaki, Coast Guard.

I. Uchiha, Undercover Agent Trainer

K. Hatake, Weapon's Specialist.

And finally, an H something (the door was pushed open too quickly to catch it all) who specialized in...Religious Fanatics and Cult Interpretation?

"Hey, Hidan, can you finger-print this one?" the elderly officer asked as he stepped inside, motioning for Temari to follow.

"Shit, can't you see I'm fucking busy?"

"Nothing that can't wait," the officer said easily, stepping to the side as Temari moved through the doorway to reveal a much younger officer sitting behind a huge metal desk, every inch covered in ink-scrawled papers. Though the sheer amount of work was what caught Temari's eye first, the officer's silver hair and lavender eyes came in a close second. For some reason, the distinctive features seemed almost recognizable; for a moment, Temari wondered where she could have seen this young man.

"What are you fucking saying, my work's not important?"

"Sure," the officer said. "Miss, if you need something, don't come to me." He moved past her, heading for the door, then paused. "Unless, of course, you want to file charges against Hidan. Then I guess I'm as good as the next guy."

"Wha-" Temari started, but the man was already gone, closing the door most of the way behind him, but, she noted, leaving it cracked open.

"What the fuck is wrong with that mother-fucking bastard?" the silver-haired officer growled, slamming his hand palm down against an open book. The resulting boom resounded nastily through Temari's head; she winced once, then again as the man slid his chair back from the desk, the wheels squeaking shrilly. "I am obviously busy, and he just fucking dumps you in here like I've got nothing better to do. Goddamned bastard..."

"..." _Where have I seen him before? _Temari wondered, taking a closer look at the man as he continued to rant. She was only semi-aware of what he was saying -- fucking stupid job, shitty pay, ridiculous assignments -- until he suddenly looked right at her, his own eyes narrowed into slits.

"What the fuck? Are you going to sit down or not? I've got to finish this paper before we do the damn fingerprints."

Without speaking, Temari jerked forward, much like her car had before dying, and virtually fell into the extra computer chair in front of his desk. Perhaps this was when Hidan noticed how thin of a line her mouth was, how slumped her shoulders were, and how exhaustion shone in her eyes. She set her bag in her lap, stifled a yawn, and glanced around the office.

"Dude, you look fucked up. What the hell have you been doing?"

"Filing accident reports," Temari said blandly.

"Huh. Must have been some fucked up accident."

"Sure."

"Cause you look like it was some sort of ringer you went though."

"Look, not to be rude, but can we get this over with?" Temari said a little testily. Hidan's eyebrows shot up.

"Okay, fine, be a bitch. I'm just trying to make small talk."

Temari wisely kept her mouth closed, otherwise the Religious Fanatics and Cult Interpretation Specialist might have lost few decibels either way on his hearing range.

Silence reigned as the officer turned back to his paper, highlighter flashing across the last few paragraphs before thudding down against the desk. Hidan pushed himself to his feet with a low sigh.

"This way," he muttered distractedly, and Temari got up to follow him out the door and into the hall. He led her a ways further down the hall, then into a dark lab, upon which he promptly flipped the light switch on.

"You ever done this before?" he asked casually as Temari stepped in after him, eyes adjusting to the brightness to see a long, waist-high counter stretching across one side of the room, three separate finger-printing work-stations set up across the length.

"Only about three times," she muttered with vicious sarcasm, dropping her bag on the floor beside the first station before beginning to roll up the sleeves of her knit sweater.

"Three times? Fuck, what have you been in for?" Hidan asked as he circled the counter and dropped down on the stool across from her, pulling a bottle of ink and the stained porcelain pad out to rest on the spotless metal surface.

"Nothing," Temari said, a little too shortly.

"Really," Hidan laughed, slamming the finger-printing cards down on the counter beside the inker. "Say that while looking me in the eye, blondie."

"I have never been in prison," Temari growled. _Even though it seems to run in the family_. "My job just changes a lot. They don't keep these records on hand."

"Yeah. Of course." He glanced up as he screwed the top off the ink bottle, eyes locked on Temari. "They all say that."

"Whatever," Temari snapped, pulling the information cards away from him without waiting for him to give the instructions -- name, birth date, birth place, mother's name, father's name, social security number, ID form, yatta, yatta. For a moment, they both continued their separate work, Hidan filling out his bit of information on one card while Temari worked on the other. The statistics came from her automatically, filling the card with her neat, all caps handwriting, as Hidan scrawled, paused, thought, scrawled, paused, and thought.

When the time came, they exchanged cards silently, Temari because she couldn't see through her numb self-pity to criticize his illegible scrawl, Hidan because he was bored, and anyways, her scowl was so freaky that he was wondering how best to bring out all that anger at once. Now _that _might make up for the dullness of his day. His chance came a minute later, when the information was all filled out and he was placing the first card into it's holder, centering the boxes for the fingerprints just under the open space.

"So," he said, glancing up as she leaned forward, elbows on the counter, and let her head drop, eyes closing as if they had a will of their own. "You said this was your fourth time?"

"Yeah," she said, then yawned.

"Then you probably won't need any help?"

And therin lay the trouble, Temari through with another yawn as she lifted her head. With the mood she was in now, she'd rather pull her fingernails out by the teeth than ask for help, or admit to needing it. But there was a reason she so hated getting her finger-prints done, and that was because she sucked at it. Always got too much ink on, couldn't keep her finger steady, turned the wrong way, smudged the print, etc. Anything that a person could do wrong, she consistently did, and it wasn't for lack of trying to improve.

"Whatever," she shrugged, though her mentality dropped another few inches at the prospect of trying to do both cards, both hands each, with no outside help.

"Go for it, then," Hidan said with a wry grin, pushing the inked pad across the counter towards her. Temari stared at the glossy black surface, the ink thin enough that it wouldn't saturate the lines of her fingers but heavy enough to firmly mark the paper. She could almost -- almost -- see her despair reflected back at her.

"Right index first," Hidan prompted, and Temari raised an incredulous eyebrow at her bad luck. Why did all the police have to be so obnoxious, on this day of all?

"Just roll it across..."

She couldn't believe how bad the day had been. Like a nightmare. Like a farce.

"Blondie?"

It was ridiculous. No, it was beyond ridiculous. It was-

"Uh, Temari?"

Temari shifted her eyes so that they met Hidan's. With his head cocked to one side, bottom lip lowered, eyes a little wide, the odd feeling of deja vu increased. Temari stared for a moment longer, then remembered.

"That's it," she hissed, snapping her fingers as the deja vu evolved into recognition. "You were the one in that add campaign launched by the city, weren't you?" Good grief, she thought a little degradingly. His face was on over half the busses in the city, and it took you that long?

"...it's fucking _great _to be recognized." Hidan scowled at her for a moment. "Yeah? So what?"

"Just wondering," Temari replied with a shrug and went back to studying the inked pad, hoping that the longer she stared, the more he'd realize that she needed help without having to ask. It didn't take long, though, for Temari to notice that it seemed as if he had something he desperately wanted to say; the man kept glancing up, then back down, thudding the ink bottle against the counter for a minute, then looking back up.

Finally, she glanced up with him so that their eyes locked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Just so you don't think I'm some fucking model or anything, I was forced to do that add thing," he said quickly, unable to keep the defensive tone from his voice. "I'm not into that shit. Stuff will send you to hell without a second thought."

"...so?"

"Just so that you don't think I condone it, or anything," Hidan continued. "I don't."

"Okay," Temari muttered, then went back to staring down the inkpad. "Why?"

"Why what? And are you going to do the finger-prints? I have to get back to work." He was glaring again, the wide-eyed look long since replaced by one of impatience.

"Why will modeling send you to hell?" Temari repeated, glancing up for a short moment. "And seriously, if you want this to go fast, you're going to have to explain better than the last person did."

"Just roll your finger across the pad," Hidan snapped, reaching across the counter and latching his fingers around her wrist without warning. "Like this," he continued, not noticing the startled look that crossed Temari's tired face. He pulled at her hand; thoughtlessly, Temari stepped forward, allowing the officer to spread her fingers out and gently press the index finger against the edge of the pad so that the ink stained from the top joint, up. It was cool on her finger, a chill that quickly made her realize that the lab was, in fact, cold. It wasn't the fact that his fingers were exceptionally warm, she told herself. That had nothing to do with it. After all, when he pulled his hand away, she was still cold.

"Now just roll it-"

BOOM!

The door to the lab, which had been wide open, suddenly, for no apparent reason, slammed shut. Loudly. Temari, who had been attempting to relax her arm in order to complete the contortions necessary to lightly ink the entire first joint of her finger without smearing anything, jumped half a foot, her head shooting up, eyes widening.

" -lightly!" Hidan grabbed her wrist again to slow the out-of-control revolution that threatened to ink the next two inches of her finger as well as the first joint. "You have to be fucking careful," he explained as he lifted her limp hand from the ink pad.

"Didn't you hear tha-"

"Just the wind, blondie. Nothing to go all psycho about."

"That wasn't psycho," Temari said firmly, struggling to keep her arm loose as he carefully rolled her finger across the before-empty white square, leaving behind a rectangular finger-print, the corners splayed out unevenly. _And that wasn't the wind_, she mentally added. She, Temari Sabaku, knew what was and was not wind better than this odd policeman ever would.

"You had better fucking hope that one turned out," Hidan muttered as he reached for a magnifying glass. Temari bit her lip; there was so much she could have said, and so much she knew she would be sorry if she did say. In this case, silence was best.

"I guess that'll do," Hidan sighed after examining the print for a moment. "Okay, your turn." Temari suppressed a sigh, made sure her sleeve was still up, and drew in all fingers besides the second. In other situations, when it was an elderly woman with poofy white hair and beaded glasses that was helping her, she'd felt bad for the gesture.

Now, she hoped he noticed.

"I saw that," he muttered, and surprisingly enough, it brought a small smile to her face as she gently rolled the finger -- her whole arm with it -- across the pad. But it was no good. Temari had never had very good control over delicate movements, especially not when she'd recently been in a three-car accident and spent hours filling out paperwork and fearing being sued. Half-way through the rotation, Hidan threw up a sigh of disgust at her progress.

"That's pathetic," he stated grimly. "You look like you're afraid of the goddamned ink."

"Well, excuse me if I'm not-"

"Let me do it," he interrupted, sliding of his stool and moving around the counter. He walked to the paper-towel dispenser on the wall, cranked out a few feet, ripped it free, then turned towards her. "You've got to keep your arm loose," he reminded her, handing her the wadded up bunch of paper-towels and motioning for her to wipe the ink from her finger. "And just-"

A shrill noise, sounding suspiciously like a muffled scream, slowed his words, then stopped them completely. "What the fuck?" he asked to no one in particular as Temari rushed towards the door, paper-towels crumpled in her hand. She pushed it open haphazardly and stepped into the hall. Oddly enough, as soon as she was out, the scream died.

Hidan poked his head out a moment later; Temari walked a few feet down the hall, but nothing else happened -- no bodies appeared, no guns shot off, no noises sounded.

"Odd."

"Damn right, that was odd. Can't they keep those goddamned crack heads in the effing lobby?" Hidan complained. "Ridiculous, I swear."

Even more ridiculous was that two minutes later, as they were pressing her right pinkie against the half-black square, the door slammed closed again. Temari jumped, Hidan scolded, and the print was only barely saved. A moment later he jerked her back when she decided to investigate the second scream.

"Seriously, what is it with this station?"

"Nothing is wrong," Hidan said for the third time. "It's an goddamned police station. Things are bound to get ugly some times. Now hold still, and we'll be done with this hand."

Temari held still, and indeed, in a moment, every finger on the right hand was properly stained, and both cards had the right-hand boxes filled in.

"Think you can...?" Hidan trailed off; Temari turned to look back at him to see him staring at her hand, hanging limply from where he was grasping her wrist. "Do you have some sort of disease?" Hidan asked blankly as they both watched said hand tremble slightly for no apparent reason.

"No," Temari snapped as she pulled her hand away. "I'm just tired."

"Sure you're not scared?"

"Shudup."

"Whatever. I'm guessing with that trembling, you're unable to print your left hand?" When Temari didn't immediately answer, Hidan reached over and waved his hand in front of her face; she merely pushed it away before walking over to the door.

"What?" Hidan asked. "Leaving? Good."

"Didn't you hear that?" she asked softly, peering out of the glass window with wide eyes.

"No, I didn't. Can we hurry up and finish?"

"Shhh!"

"I don't want to "shhh," bitch!"

"Would you just shut up for a minute?!" Temari snapped as she shot a glare in his direction. Hidan momentarily quieted, but the sound was gone. What sound?

Something suspiciously like muffled gunshots.

"Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?" Temari asked as she walked back to the counter and finger-printing kit.

"No, actually, only a few," Hidan replied lightly. "Mostly those fucking photographers during that goddamned photo shoot."

"You never did tell me why you were doing a modeling gig when you think modeling is evil," Temari said absentmindedly as Hidan grabbed her wrist and elbow and they began the slow process of finger printing another hand.

"It was fucking blackmail, that's why," he grumbled. In the police force? "That buffoon Kakuzu said I hadn't brought in enough money for the force. Damn bastard. I have to spend weeks at a desk job because my face is still out there. "

"You're bringing in money by modeling? I thought it was the city council's job to fund you guys," Temari commented.

"Well, technically, it was _volunteer_, but Kakuzu went and sold separate albums out, like, across the world. Goddamned bastard. Now I never now when someone might recognize me. It's totally fucking not cool."

"Someone would buy those?"

"...is that supposed to be offending?"

"...Yeah. Sort of."

"Well, yes, some messed-up motherfucker would," Hidan said as he pressed her third finger against the pad, rolled it from tip to tip, then lifted her hand and arm and pressed the edge of the finger to the card. "Though, it's got me as confused as you are," he admitted. "That crap was nasty."

They were silent for a moment.

"So, can I ask a question without getting my head bit off?" Hidan asked, lips curled in sarcasm. Temari debated for a moment, the nodded. "What the fuck kind of accident did you get in?"

"...my car stalled in the middle of the highway."

"Fucking serious? That's funny."

"...no. Not really."

"Anyone hurt?"

"No." My self-esteem, she added inwardly, but decided to leave it alone.

"Well, you're one lucky bitch. Most people don't come out unscathed."

"You call this unscathed?" Temari deadpanned, unable to trust herself with making any sort of vocal inflections. For all she knew, he'd decided she was complaining, and Temari didn't complain.

Much.

"Hey, it could be worse," Hidan shrugged. "You could be way more fucked up than you are now."

"Right."

"And you could have been tossed in a holding tank for reckless driving," he continued, almost philosophically, as he examined the most recent print.

"...right." Temari, waiting for him to finish the last few prints, massaged her wrist with stained fingers, realizing a moment too late that she was leaving black smudge marks on the smooth skin.

"I mean, anyone that stupid really should have their license rescinded," he finished, setting aside the magnifying glass as he glanced over at her.

"Thanks, Hidan," she sighed, not bothering to tame the glare sent in his direction. "Really."

"Hey," he said defensively. "Truth is truth, Temari. You don't dumb it down depending on the person."

"I know," she said quickly -- a little too quickly. Hidan's eyebrows shot up; he turned briefly in her direction, then seemed to decided against it. A silence fell, and though Temari didn't want to acknowledge it as awkward, it happened that way.

"So," she said, a little irritably, as he rolled her second to last finger. "Which cult are you a part of?"

If she was any judge of reactions, his was surprised if she ever saw one.

"What makes you think I'm part of a cult?" he snapped, eyes narrowing.

"I dunno, just-" He jerked her arm harder than usual as he moved towards the finger-print card, and Temari stumbled after him. "It was just a question!" she exclaimed, annoyed. "You don't have to get so offended."

"I'm not offended, bitch! Just don't bring it up in the station, okay?"

"...okay?" Temari sighed, and her tone said everything that she didn't trust herself to vocalize.

"Listen," Hidan muttered after a long moment, when they were moving on to the last finger. "I'm not allowed to talk about my religion at work. Trust me, I'd love to, but I can't -- not for a while, at least."

"Is it some sort of county law?" Temari asked, trying to pretend that she was really interested. "They don't want you guys to be sued?"

"...ssssomething like that," Hidan said, a short smile lighting up his face. Temari glanced away hurriedly, because it wasn't exactly a nice sort of smile. It was...rather like the sort of smile she'd picture on the face of a homicidal...cannibal, to be perfectly frank. And...it threw her off. More so than she'd been before. So much so that when Hidan held the ink-remover towards her, she stared at it for a full five seconds before realizing what it was.

As she washed her hands at the sink in the back of the lab, scrubbing at the ink under her fingernails with a soppy paper-towel, Hidan wiped off the ink-sheet and began putting the box back together. They were silent, but, at least on Temari's part, it wasn't the sort of comfortable silence that dropped on friends; more so the quiet on the cat's part before he pounces on the unaware mouse.

Well, Temari was no mouse, unaware or not. And as she dried her hands on yet another paper-towel, she swore that she'd make it through the next ten minutes till she got to her car no matter what they threw at her.

Oh, the resolve of the oblivious citizen.

They hadn't made it four feet down the silent hall-way when Hidan turned towards her, face a nightmarish mask of...annoyance. Major annoyance.

"Look, it's not my style to be quiet if someone asks me about my religion," he stated. "It makes me fucking angry, really. So, I dunno what your schedule is, but if you've got any free blocks, or whatever..."

"..."

"I just hate not telling people about the truth," he said vehemently, and Temari believed him. But it just so happened to be that a moment after he finished speaking, telling the truth became second priority as the building began falling apart.

Literally.

It was almost like the scenes in war movies when they zoom in on the people hiding in the bomb shelters, as long as you replacing screaming children for a cursing Hidan and soothing mothers for a stunned Temari. It was unbelievable, and yet the building was shaking around them, the walls vibrating so hard that paint flaked off into the air, the lights flickering as if electricity was either surging or dropping, the floor cracking, like some huge hammer blow sent chasms through the carpet-covered cement.

And it wasn't just random spazations. It was a low roar, spreading through the air so quickly, but subtly, that it took a moment to recognize it.

"What the fucking hell!?"

"Earthquake?" Temari suggested, surprised at her own complacency as she moved them away from the nearest over-head light, which looked suspiciously like dropping its cover on their heads.

"I told them _not today_! What the goddamned hell are those bastards fucking thinking?" He looked enraged, but what Temari noticed the most was the fact that he wasn't moving.

"Hidan, should we-" she began, but he simply plowed on.

"-they are such losers! Goddamn it, they were going to fucking blow it with me inside!"

"I think-"

"Those (curses and complaints and insults)-"

"Hidan, we need to get out!"

He stopped at her shout, then glanced at her as if only just realizing she was still there. A light seemed to dawn just behind his eyes.

"Oh yeah. You could die, couldn't you?"

Temari just stared at him.

"Well, get fucking moving, then."

"Where's the closest exit?"

"Damned if I know."

What kind of person, Temari mourned as she spun around, deciding, in her frustration and confusion and, yes, _terror_, to ignore him, what kind of person is this casual when the building is falling in on his head?

"There's an exit down this hall," Hidan called after her. "Can you find it?"

The building gave another shake, sending a light fixture crashing down just in front of Temari.

"Probably," she shouted back, dodging backwards as shards of glass shot out from the demolished light. It was getting dark, and fast, as the lights succumbed to the violent tremors. "Why are you just standing there?" she yelled over her shoulder as she skirted the mess. "You're going to get killed!"

"Keep saying that, Temari, if it makes you feel any better." Nevertheless, he followed her down the hall, caught her elbow when another round of shaking caught up, and thrust her outside in front of him when they reached the door.

"You so owe me at least fifteen minutes for this!" he shouted as a much louder rumble rocked through the building behind them. That was when Temari could no longer deny that the sounds were explosions; that the shaking was from a blast; that really, it wasn't just an earthquake.

"Fifteen minutes for what?" she snapped, ducking instinctively as the building shook in the roar.

"Conversion!" he shouted back as they reached the edge of the back parking-lot.

"Conversion?"

"Bastards!" he half-screamed, and Temari turned with him to face the building.

It blew.

"I go through all that goddamned modeling to get them the funds, and they fucking set off the bombs with me inside? Those damn bastards! I didn't even get to see the main show!"

Temari watched, speechless, as chunks of what looked like flaming roofing thudded to the pavement, sending out spurts of fire to match the grimacing crash. The left-over walls of the police station were beginning to fall outward, revealing flames and rubble inside.

"This is so fucking unfair!"

The metal door they'd just gone through was resting near them, twisted grotesquely enough that it resembled more of a modern art project than a standard facility door. Temari stared at it.

"All this damn planning, and they just…argh!"

Without another word, Temari slung her bag tighter over her shoulder and began to run, following the general curve of the parking lot that would lead her to the main entrance.

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going?" Hidan shouted when he noticed her departure.

"There could still be people inside!" she yelled back, a sudden, intense drive overpowering her shock and confusion.

"Oh," Hidan said, staring after her for a blank moment before following. "I don't think you need to worry about anything, Blondie, but how cute."

Temari hardly heard him; she has just rounded the corner of the parking lot and stopped, incredulity obvious in her expression. A huge crowd was moving steadily further form the burning building, police officers and waiting-room occupiers and handcuffed prisoners looking amazed at their good luck. A few officers stood at random in the crowd, attempting to direct the flow, but from a distance, it looked as if they were failing miserably. Nonetheless, the density of the group caused a rush of release in Temari's heart, for there was simply no way that there had been more people than this inside the station.

"See?" Hidan taunted as he came to a stop beside her. "I told you, we had this planned out."

"…what?" Temari asked, finally understanding the full extent of the accusing and cursing he'd been doing for the past frenzied minutes.

"I said," Hidan repeated, "we had this all planned out. No worries, if they hadn't left me in the fucking dark."

"This…this is a police drill?" she asked, mouth dropping at the prospect. Hidan began to reply, but before he got further than the, "No way in-", a sharp voice rose above the frightened babble of the distant crowd, and a single figure broke free of the throng and began jogging towards them.

"Finally," Hidan whined. "Tobi, what the fuck was that?"

Though she wouldn't voice it, Temari had the exact same question for the black-haired officer who came to a stop in front of them, then bent forward, hands on his knees, panting for air.

"You'd think he just ran a goddamned marathon," Hidan muttered, rolling his eyes to the sky as he waited for the man to recover his breath.

"Tobi is glad you made it out!" the officer exclaimed, and lifted his head to eye the silver-haired investigator with a cheerful grin. It was then that he caught sight of Temari, seemingly for the first time, and a flash of _woops_ crossed his face so quickly that she almost missed it.

"I thought you guys were going to wait!" Hidan continued, his previous anger resurfacing quickly now that there was a culprit to vent it on. "And what the fuck was with not telling me when the bombs were going off? Just because I'm fucking immortal doesn't mean that shit doesn't hurt, you know. And anyways, I could have lost some important body parts!"

"Um, Hidan…"

"Who's decision was it?" Hidan demanded. "Was it Itachi? I'll kill the bastard, I swear-"

"Hidan-"

"What?"

With a furtive glance at Temari, Tobi shook his head, just a tiny bit.

"What?" Hidan repeated snappily. "Yeah, she got out too." Sudden understanding dawned in his eyes, and he turned to look at Temari, purple gaze narrowed. "What the fuck…were we trying to kill her?" He tilted his head back at Tobi, eyes questioning.

"Hidan!" the black-haired man exclaimed, eyes widening. "I think we should wait to discuss this!"

"No fucking way!" Hidan growled, furious. "I want answers, now! And if you _are _going to kill her, I need fifteen minutes!"

Suddenly, it occurred to Temari that now might be a _very_ good time to get moving. It wasn't exactly that she was afraid -- more curious-like -- but even curiosity couldn't compel her to stay and get involved in the mess that this would undoubtedly turn into.

"Look, I'll just leave," she said diplomatically, easing away from both officers. "I need to call my brothers; they'll be worried."

"Whatever," Hidan snapped; he obviously didn't care. With a small sigh of relief, Temari began to turn away.

"Uuuummmm…" Tobi said worriedly. "Tobi's not sure, but…but…he thinks…you're needed for questioning!"

"Why?" Temari and Hidan asked together.

"Because…because Hidan can't testify since he's a police officer!" Tobi said, his words coming out very quickly as if he had hopes they would not recognize the ridiculousness of them if they could not properly hear them. "We need to know what happened to you!? If…if you want to sue!"

"I…don't want to sue," Temari said blankly, glancing over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh." Tobi looked stymied at this, but it only lasted a moment. "Well, you have to come anyways!" he suddenly exclaimed. "It's ma-...man-…mandatory!"

"Look, can it be done some other time?" Temari snapped, turning fully around to glare at the man. In doing so, she caught sight of the fireball to the right again, and paused, words dried up as the huge degree of destruction startled her into silence.

"No," Tobi said after a moment. "It has to be now."

Wordlessly, Temari blinked three times, then ripped her gaze away.

"Whatever. But let me call my brothers first."


	2. Plans Awry

Cheesy! buuuut, I didn't feel like trying to make it better...I wrote this a while back...and decided to edit and post, as I have little initiative to actually write right now...anyways.

**Corolla **

by** green see-through ghosts  
**

um, no major **warning **besides for the fact that this isn't my best writing! At least, I hope not...so.

* * *

_As Temari was wreaking havoc on the highway…_

"Hinata, calm down. A few deep breaths. You know, _in _for a few seconds, then _out_ for a few more-"

"Kiba," Shino snapped, elbowing the dark-haired boy in the side with a scowl evident behind the dark sunglasses that covered his eyes. "That is of no assistance."

"What?" Kiba whined, stepping away from his friend and rubbing his sore side as he glared at the stoic teen. "I'm just trying to help."

"But you're not," Shino said coldly, then looked away with a shake of his head, focus returning to the teenage girl beside him. "It won't get any easier," he told her.

Hinata Hyuga nodded bleakly and released her breath in a small rush before raising her pale eyes to the building across the street. It was a place that she had carefully avoided ever since she knew that coming here was inevitable, and the black-haired girl wasted another few moments wishing that the confrontation about to occur could wait, even if it was only for a few more days.

"I still can't believe this," Kiba complained from her right side, crossing his arms in front of him, the look on his tattooed face speaking clear anger. Beside him, the white and brown mutt known as Akamaru growled, his tail held straight out and teeth barred as he stared at the building across from them. "We aren't exactly welcome around here, you know."

"You mean _you_ aren't," Shino replied, his slightly-annoyed, ever-deep voice coming from her left.

"Face it, Shino," Kiba snapped. "You were as much to blame for that fire as I was."

"The fire?" Shino said. "Of course. What _I_ was referring to was the explosion _after_ the fire."

"Hey!" Kiba barked. "You should have told me that shit was explosive!"

The argument passed over the small girl without leaving a mark. Hinata…was trembling again. Though neither of her best friends would admit it, the three of them were about to willingly enter a place where a large percentage of the workers held an ever-lasting grudge against them. A few days of postponement would be heaven, but right then, Hinata would settle for even a few minutes of delay before having to enter this particular police station.

They stood silent for another moment; then, Shino placed a hand on Hinata's shoulder. She turned to look up at her tall companion, unable to disguise the worried anticipation in her expression. True, she was at a crossroads in her life, and she desperately needed some legal help to navigate through safely. But the past memories of this place -- and the trauma that followed -- were strong enough to cause a severe degradation of movement in her legs.

"Now or never," Kiba said, and the transformation of his voice from gloomy to jaunty was so swift that Hinata glanced back at him, surprised, as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and stepped off the curb to begin across the street. Akamaru whined suddenly, and though his entire body stiffened, the dog did not follow without the command.

"K-Kiba!" Hinata exclaimed, and quickly moved after him, her own problem forgotten. To allow him inside was just plain stupid; they'd agreed on this beforehand. As the main perpetrator of the shadowy-mentioned crime, he was bound to be even more unwelcome than the others.

"What?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder with brown eyes that danced above his red triangular markings. "Will you follow me if I go in?"

"Yes!" she snapped, and stepped off the curb after him. "But you d-don't need to!"

"You'll go in without me?" he quizzed, stopping in the middle of the left lane to turn towards her. "With no-one but Bug-Boy?"

"Kiba!" Shino growled, but Hinata was nodding enthusiastically, oblivious to her unspoken approval of Kiba's insulting nick-name.

"Yes," she said, and took another few steps forward until she was standing level with him. Though the heavy rock in the pit of her stomach was growing, the nervousness was enough to even rid her mind of memory. "Let's go, Shino."

The tall boy walked forward to join her, and the two of them continued across the street until they were standing on the far side. "Good luck!" Kiba yelled after them. And Hinata turned and waved as Shino cast him an annoyed glare. Then, the couple was moving quickly up the short walk, pushing through the glass doors, and entering the brightly-lit station.

Kiba watched for another minute, the grin fading off his face almost before they were gone. He stood oblivious for a short time, then shrugged, turned, and jogged back to the sidewalk. Without pause, he began walking briskly towards the nearby park to sit out the long wait -- not quite alone, as Akamaru trotted at an easy pace behind him.

----

See, some things are easy. Like following your friends into another abandoned office building to hide from a father on the rampage. Just a few steps to safety, with a helping hand on each side of you.

But the consequences of the action is when it becomes difficult to comprehend how serious such a simple thing can be. The fire was mostly Shino's fault, since it was because of his objections that Kiba had tossed away his still burning cigarette. The explosion, on the other hand, was all Kiba, since the energetic brunette hadn't had the sense of mind to realize that his flaming shirt should be tossed anywhere but on the suspicious liquid creeping across a good third of the second floor. But while Hinata had been a passive observer in both events, there was no denying that after the flashing lights and police officers and sentences to community service, the main brunt of the punishment had come down on her head.

The beating she had received from her father that night was enough to convince her that one day, the misguided man would kill her.

She'd limped through life for the next few days, purposefully avoiding anyone who would recognize her by hanging around the basement of her cousin's section of their family house. But Kiba and Shino couldn't be kept away for long, and after their initial anger, Shino had decided that it was high time Hinata tell someone about the regular abuse that took place in the Hyuga household.

That was two school councilors and one nurse ago. The police, Hinata believed, were their last chance. Not that she wouldn't love to pass up on it; after all, she was still convinced that the best plan would be to buy a few plane tickets and move the trio of them to Australia. It was Shino who had the moral problem with running away; and thus, it was Shino who accompanied her into the station.

Unfortunately, Shino couldn't do the talking for her.

How do I say this? Hinata wondered miserably as she stared at the, thank god, _female_, desk officer who was looking at her expectantly and with, thank god, fairly-kind eyes. My name is Hinata Hyuga, and my father…?

Shino elbowed her gently, and Hinata drew in a deep breath to speak. Unfortunately, all words escaped her mind as an especially loud burst of conversation rose from the group behind them, and the breath eased out without the burden of sound.

Three minutes later, Shino and Hinata were sitting at a steel table in a questioning room with the promise of the desk officer that soon, a special victims officer would be in to talk with them.

"Do you know what to say?" Shino asked bluntly, and Hinata shook her head wordlessly, not even bothering to think about the question.

"He…he's going to be very angry," she whispered, her chin dropping down against the collar of her fleece jacket.

"You won't have the chance to see it," Shino replied. Hinata nodded, but the gloom in her eyes remained until a pair of female detectives entered the room. The first was very short, with thick, purple-streaked hair, while the second was tall and stately and walked with a slow, steady grace.

"Howdy!" The short woman plunked down in the steel chair across from Hinata, glancing from her, to Shino, and back. "Name's Anko Mitarashi. You?" She looked closely at Hinata, brown eyes slightly narrowed.

"Hinata…Hyuga."

"Hinata," Anko said slowly. "Welcome. That's my partner, Konan."

The second woman nodded towards the girl.

"We heard that there was something you'd like to tell us," Anko continued, leaning back in her chair as she crossed her arms over her chest in a no-nonsense fashion. Obviously, she wasn't one to mince words.

"Yes," Hinata said, though she did not continue. They waited in silence for a few moments; then, Hinata lifted her head, shaking her long hair back from her face as she pressed her lips firmly together.

So she couldn't fix it on her on. So Shino and Kiba couldn't fix it. So maybe these people couldn't either. But, she guessed as she opened her mouth to say some of the more embarrassing words she'd ever have to speak, as long as she was here, it was worth a try.

-----

Two and a half hours later, a duo patrol car had been dispatched to the Hyuga residence with orders to arrest the family head and bring the younger daughter to the station in a different car. Twenty-one forms had been filed, three lectures had been given, and twice, Anko had explained that the sisters had to be placed with a foster family until their twenty-three-year-old cousin was approved for temporary custody.

And, Hinata really needed to pee.

Upon this revelation, Anko directed her down the hall, to the left, up the stairs, and to the right. After a quiet thank-you, Hinata followed the directions, moving somewhat timidly through the carpeted, fluorescent hallways. She encountered no-one, but was too tired to think much of it. The small girl was not merely shy; she abhorred speech of all kind, and the past hours had been filled with continuous recitation of a few of the things that she liked to speak about least of all.

The tan-and-cream tiled bathroom was empty upon her arrival, and she heaved a small sigh of relief for the small blessing before occupying the last stall in the row of five. The quiet was relaxing, and if it had not been so unnaturally cold, Hinata might have fallen asleep in the shadowed stall. But, just as she was beginning to think about sneaking out the back entrance, a hand pounded on the bathroom door.

Probably Anko, or maybe the other one, checking to make sure she hadn't run.

But before she could release the latch of the light-brown stall door, a loud, annoyed, _male_ voice echoed through the bathroom.

"Helloooooo? Anyone in here?"

"Um," Hinata began, but realized with a jolt that the asker of the question had not bothered waiting for an answer before entering. A heavy set of footsteps entered, the thud of hard rubber echoing against the walls as Hinata froze, hand on the latch.

"You all set?"

A different voice, but still male, and this one from outside the room.

"Yeah," the first replied, and there was a sharp crack as something heavy was set down on the floor very close to where Hinata stood.

"Alright," the second voice said. "I'm locking the door from the outside. You'd better be done in an hour."

"Heh," the first voice laughed. "I'll be done with this _child's play_ in fifteen minutes, un."

"Whatever," the second voice muttered, the last half of his word swiftly muffled by the closing door. Hinata heard a click, which she assumed was the lock of the main door latching into place. Then, there was no more speech.

Nothing but the sound of the movement going on not more than ten feet away.

Oh, damn, Hinata thought miserably, closing her eyes as breath suddenly became difficult to draw. Before she could panic, she began reassuring herself. _Shino will come to look for me. Or, the detectives will. Or…somebody. _

Unfortunately, she happened to have the bad luck to begin moving away from the door just as the unknown man ceased his unknown movements. The sound of the heel of her sneaker scraping across the floor was just loud enough to be painfully obvious in the silence.

Oh, damn.

"Somebody in here?" The voice was warier, and lower, and _now_, Hinata was scared.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes.

"Yes?" Her voice was pitifully weak in the silence, her throat so dry that the word barely made it out. She heard a low sigh, followed by a few mumbled words that she could not catch.

"Are you going to come out?" he snapped suddenly, and Hinata jumped as his clear voice split the nervous quiet.

"Um…"

Before she could even think of a reply, the heavy footsteps approached the stall door; a pair of hands appeared to grip the top ledge. Hinata had just enough time to notice the skin-tight black gloves before a face appeared above them, and then her eyes were suddenly occupied with the speaker's very aqua orbs.

He stared at her blankly for a long moment, eyebrows creased beneath the chunk of blonde hair that fell across the left side of his square face, and she stared back at him, too shocked to move as the bright light cast his shadow across the wall beside her. Then, incredulity spread across his features and he dropped back down, leaving Hinata to her astonishment and mortification.

The man happened to be rather young; and, though she didn't want to admit it, rather handsome. But even worse?

He had been the main investigator in their accidental arson.

"Unbelievable," he said, and the door thudded back against the latch as he pressed his weight against it. "What the hell is a kid like you doing in here _anyways_?"

"Um…" _Think_, Hinata, she ordered herself. _An excuse, quick! Maybe he didn't recognize you…_

"This is not good," he muttered, and she nodded in agreement, realizing a moment too late that there was no one to see her movement. "Why didn't you answer before?"

"I d-did," Hinata mumbled. "I don't think you…heard."

Neither of them bothered with a cover-up; Hinata because she just wasn't one to expect the best of a situation, and Deidara because cover-ups were only for the unskilled.

"Damn right I didn't," the man muttered darkly. She could see his booted feet just outside the door, and the one on the right was tapping the floor spasmodically, the sound echoing against the cold tiles.

"Okay," he finally said, and the door moved slightly as he straightened up. "I'm Officer Deidara, and you're going to have to stay put until I figure out what to do with you. Got it?"

"Yes," Hinata said, just a little too quickly.

"Heh. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you. I think."

Great, Hinata thought as she backed away from the door until her legs hit the toilet. Wonderful. Trapped in a bathroom. With a sarcastic man. Didn't she get enough of that from Shino?

Sarcasm, that is. Shino would never trap her in a bathroom.

_Shino_. He'd come looking for her soon, wouldn't he? Or…someone would.

Before her thoughts could progress much further, a spark ignited in Hinata's weak and undeveloped sense of curiosity. Odd, wasn't it? What she'd heard? Sort of…sneaky? Sort of…untrustworthy?

What was going on?

In coded answer to her mental questions, the top of a stepladder appeared above the stall door with a loud crack against the tiles. She watched, the small spark of curiosity developing into a flame, as Officer Deidara ascended said ladder, reached out, and pushed one of the removable roofing sections up into the ceiling, then to the side. The officer brushed his hair back from his eyes and pushed the section completely out of the way before glancing down at her. Unexpectedly, their eyes met, and Hinata quickly looked away.

"Hey, have I seen you before?" he asked curiously, turning on the ladder to rest his back against the rungs as he faced her. "For some reason, that pathetic timidity seems familiar. No offense, or anything," he added with a smirk.

"Um…" Hinata began, unable to find words to continue. Today just wasn't her day for explanations, was it?

"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed. "You were with those two punks who torched that old shack on the west side, weren't you?"

Though Hinata was too mortified to nod, Deidara knew he was right.

"What a small world," he mumbled, shaking his head as he disappeared from sight down the ladder. "I thought they let you off without a sentence, so what are you doing back here? Seriously, if you're lucky enough to get out, then _stay _out."

"…I wasn't here f-for that," Hinata said, eyes tracking the movement of his shadow across the floor.

"Eh? One of your pals in for something?"

"No," she said quickly.

"Don't tell me," he replied, and then he was ascending the ladder again, this time with a long strip of eight-inch cylinders taped together in his right hand, and a black box with a few varieties of wire issuing from spaces in the plastic. If she hadn't of known better, Hinata would have sworn that it looked like Officer Deidara was planting a bomb in the ceiling of the women's restroom.

"Let me guess," he continued, and his upper half disappeared inside the gaping hole. His voice, though muffled, continued. "Custody battle?"

"Uh, no," Hinata said, eyes wide as it became very obvious that Officer Deidara was planting a bomb in the ceiling of the women's restroom.

"Huh. You look like the sort of kid parents would fight over. Another vandalism charge?"

"No," Hinata said, wondering what _that_ was supposed to mean.

"Witness to something or another?"

"N-not exactly."

"Okay, okay, hold on a sec." He reappeared, looking slightly ruffled and more than a little dusty, and locked his gaze on Hinata. "Are you with a parent?"

She shook her head.

"A friend?" he quizzed. She nodded.

"Okay then," he said, and disappeared inside the roof again. "Simple. You're reporting abuse, right?"

"…"

"I know I'm right," he continued; then, without a warning, the rest of him disappeared into the ceiling, one boot catching on the edge for a moment before following. "Dude!" he exclaimed, the muffled sound barely reaching her ears. "What a mess."

Okay, Hinata thought, small flickers of panic evident in the forest fire of her curiosity. Locked in a bathroom with a sarcastic man who is planting a bomb in the ceiling.

_Shino_!

A sudden pounding on the door that was echoing through the room; it had to be Shino, Hinata thought, prayed, as she scooted forward and fumbled the latch back from the door. The brightness flooded her eyes for a moment; then she stepped out quickly, lengthening her stride to make the distance that much shorter.

She didn't make it more than two steps before Officer Deidara dropped nimbly from the ceiling, landing lightly just in front of her with his blue eyes sharply narrowed.

"Don't-" he whispered, then cursed as Hinata dodged around the other side of the ladder, sliding between the sinks as Shino's voice sounded from just outside the door.

"Hinata? Are you in there?"

She was five steps from freedom when a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders roughly, pulling her to a halt as a gloved hand fastened tightly over her mouth.

"Don't you dare scream," he whispered, voice a mixture of humor and annoyance as he pulled her back from the exit.

"Hinata?" Shino called again. She tried to take a breath around the gloved hand, but the warmth blocked intake of air as well as outlet. And, before she could figure out a way to let him know she was here, Shino was gone.

The silence seemed to eclipse all else as Deidara waited a few more moments to be sure Shino was gone, then another few to give her enough of a scare that she wouldn't move again.

"That wasn't so smart, un," he murmured as his hand slid from her mouth to allow a deep breath that was half squeak of fear. "I told you to _stay put_."

Hinata stayed put, and even froze a little more, as his now free hand brushed across her cheek, index finger tracing the edge of the faded bruise that was usually covered by her hair.

"So, you're here to report abuse," Deidara said, voice breezing across her cheek in a warm breath. "I wonder…you'd probably be better off if you'd put up with it for a bit longer." The finger pressed lightly into the bruise, and though it was tender, Hinata did not wince, though this was more out of fear of any movement than actual toughness on her part. "Ah well," Deidara muttered, then turned the both of them around, pushing her towards the ladder as he released her. "Try that again, and it won't be so pretty, okay?"

Hinata stared blankly forward, wondering vaguely what move came next.

"Got it?" Deidara growled, walking around her to exhibit the magnificent glare in place on his face. She swallowed hard and managed a nod, though the trembling shake of her head was a pitiful acquiescence. "Jeez," he muttered, eyes lightening for a short moment before he turned away from her and headed back up the ladder. "Don't be so scared, kid. As long as you don't make things difficult for me, I won't have to hurt you."

That so? Hinata's curiosity wondered briefly. Then, she was ignoring the small flame as she moved until her back was against the wall, eyes still locked on the boots that remained on the second-from-the-top rung.

Five minutes later, he reappeared with a mass of wires in one hand and a dust ball in the other. The dust ball, he stared with in disgust before dropping to the floor. The wires, he returned to the heavy black workbox that rested at the foot of the ladder.

"So, Hinata, right?" His short glance was enough to catch the widening of her eyes at the sound of her name, and he grinned over at her. "Were you this shy before?" he asked, bending over the workbox as he dug through its contents. "I guess I didn't really have the chance to find out, since those two punks were standing over you the whole time. Which one's your boyfriend?"

"Um…"

"Let me guess," he ordered, motioning for her to remain silent. "Any girl would have to be crazy to date the triangle-kid, so I'm betting it was the other one. What was his name? Abrume?" He shook his head and stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "No, that's not right…Aburame?"

He glanced over at Hinata, but got no help from the girl who was staring at him as if he'd just said one of the most revolting things she'd ever heard.

"Okay then," he muttered. "He's not the boyfriend. But, no way you're weird enough to date the Inuzuka kid?" Hinata shook her head quickly. "Oh. So you don't date either of them. Smart girl."

If she hadn't been so weirded-out, Hinata might have giggled.

"Is your boyfriend the one abusing you?" Deidara asked as he began making his way back up the ladder, carrying another roll of cylinders and another mass of wire. "You look like the kind to have an abusive boyfriend."

"What?" Hinata asked, slightly more courageous now that his eyes were off her.

"Oh, nothing," he said dismissively. "But, am I right?"

"No," Hinata stated. Then, annoyed with the guessing game, she continued. "I'm reporting my f-father."

"Duuuude," Deidara sighed. "I'd forgotten how much of a prick he was during court. I should have guessed that."

"Hmm…" Hinata leaned her back against the wall as she slid down into a cross-legged position on the floor. When she wasn't watching the ladder, her eyes were on the door and the crack of light beneath, waiting for a sign of human activity.

"You know? He had the look of someone who could get real anal real fast. Did he give you that bruise?"

"Yes." Hinata brushed a hand over the cold tile, then slid her fingers up and down the wall, taking in the texture of the pain with her chilled skin.

"Punishment for getting caught up in the arson, I guess."

"You c-could call it that."

"Then I will. Hey, hand me the wrench from the floor, would ya?"

Hinata stared blankly at the hole in the ceiling, then stood up and approached the ladder. There, on the bottom rung, sat a small steel wrench, black grease staining the head.

"This?" she asked, picking it up and holding it towards the hole. Deidara's head appeared in the gap a moment later; he nodded and reached down for it.

"That's the one." With a hand on the edge of the ladder to steady her, Hinata stepped onto the bottom rung and held it towards him. Deidara stretched a hand down, slid the metal instrument from her fingers, then grinned at her as his arm snaked back to his side.

"Thanks. Now the fuses, please."

Hinata stepped down and studied the contents of the toolbox. "These?" she asked, holding up a small card-board box that was open far enough to reveal a jumble of mixed-length fuses.

"You're my hero."

Blushing, Hinata stepped back up on the ladder and held the small box towards him. His fingers fastened around it, but, after a moment's hesitation, he extended their grip to surround her fingers. He tugged.

"Come on up. It's kinda cool, you know."

"Uh…"

His fingers slid down to encircle her wrist, and then he was pulling her up without waiting for an answer.

"Anyways, I don't trust that lock on the door. With my luck, you'd be gone in thirty seconds."

Semi-unwilling, though her curiosity was now thoroughly ignited, Hinata carefully climbed up the six steps till she could see inside the dark recess of the space between floors. There was about two and a half feet between the barriers, but what surprised Hinata was the sheer expanse of it all. There were no dividers in this place, and she guessed that if there had been enough light to see, she would have been able to pick out the outer walls of the building.

"See?" Deidara asked, and his grip on her wrist tightened again as he tugged her further up. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Uh…"

He didn't stop pulling until she had warily crawled up into the roofing, gently setting the weight of her knees on the section beside the blonde-haired officer. It was then, as his hand released hers, that she began to wonder just how easy it would be for him to kill her from this position. He could just shove her back through the hole; he might be able to lock her up here. Who knew what weapons he carried…who knew if he needed them.

Anyways, it quickly became obvious that it wasn't just one bomb being set in the ceiling. At various increments in the shadowy world between floors were dynamite-and-fuse contraptions that all looked very much like the one Deidara was just now finishing. If pressed, Hinata might guess that there were at least twenty-five

"As you can see, I've had some practice," Deidara said with a low chuckle. "And Kakuzu thought it would take me an hour. Heh."

"Are…what are they?" Hinata asked bluntly, though she knew what the answer was going to be.

"Bombs," Deidara stated with a little chuckle. "Give me the fuses, will ya?"

She dumbly handed him the box.

"Thanks. So, what do you think?" He glanced over at her with a wry smile. "Should we stick your dad in here before detonation?"

Hinata gaped at him for a short moment, then looked away, blushing. Blushing! He reveals his evil plan to destroy the police station, and possibly kill its occupants, and she blushes?!

Some times, Hinata really did hate herself.

"Sorry for dragging you into this, un," he continued, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort. "But, you shoulda spoken up when I asked if anyone was here."

"I did," she said, crossing her arms over her jacket with a slightly annoyed glint in her fair eyes.

"Shoulda said it louder," he replied. "Anyways, now I get to try to figure out what to do with you. Just hope that it ain't Kakuzu who comes to let me out. He'll probably kill you without a second thought." Deidara paused, glanced over at her, and shrugged. "But maybe not. He'd probably check the quality of your clothes first."

"Huh?"

"Hand me that wrench again, would ya?"

Hinata handed him the wrench and waited for him to continue.

"What I mean is, Kakuzu likes to make money. If he could ransom you, he wouldn't kill you. At least, not right away."

Hinata swallowed hard and chose to ignore those last words.

"So…" Deidara asked after a moment. "Don't you want to know what I'm doing?"

"N-not really," Hinata admitted, feeling sick.

"Okay," he shrugged, and continued with his work. "If you're not going to ask me anything, than do I get to ask you something?"

"Um…"

"Alright, deal." He paused and leaned back, bracing his hands on his knees as he looked at her closely, hair drooping across his eyes. "What's that scar on the back of your hand from? I noticed it during the investigation, but like I said, those friends of yours never let me close enough to ask."

Hinata self-consciously slid a finger across the swath of shiny white skin spread across nearly a third of the back of her left hand.

"Yeah," Deidara said, eyebrows raising. "That."

Hinata wondered how she was supposed to tell him what the scar was from without giving him her life story, then decided that she might as well look for a way to make it rain without getting the earth wet.

But that didn't mean she was going to tell him everything.

"I don't know," she lied. "I've had it ever since I can remember."

"That's weird," Deidara muttered, turning back to his bomb. "What's your last name again?"

"…Hyuga…"

"Then maybe you know this guy. Neji? We graduated from the same high school."

Hinata's heart-beat began to speed up; she glanced quickly at Deidara, who, thankfully, wasn't looking at her.

"…Neji Hyuga is my cousin."

"That so?" he laughed. "Man, if it weren't for the family appearance, I never would have guessed it. But, now that you mention it, I can remember seeing you at his graduation. You would have been, what, ten?"

"Twelve," Hinata mumbled, refraining from reminding him that _he_ was the one who had mentioned it.

"Twelve," he repeated, and Hinata could almost seem him doing the math. "Do you know him well?"

"Neji? Yes," she said, and looked away again.

"Then he'd probably kick my ass if he found out I had anything to do with the mess this is going to be," Deidara sighed. "He's in the force, isn't he? Where at?"

"Um…"

"Oh, he's a special agent, right? No wonder he's not with you today. I seem to recall him being a bit…over-protective. He that way still?"

"…yeah, I guess," Hinata said, smiling a little as she thought of how "over-protective" barely scratched the surface.

"Great," Deidara muttered as he tossed the box of fuses back in her direction. "He'll definitely flip if he found out I had anything to do with this. Your cousin didn't particularly like me in high school, or police academy," he explained, standing in a crouch to move closer to the hole in the ceiling…or, floor. "Ironic, isn't it, that you'd wind up being stuck in here with me."

He looked at her from his side of the space in the ceiling, and Hinata looked down at her hands.

"It'll probably be another forty minutes till anyone gets here to open the door," he said after a few moments of silence. "I shoulda grabbed a radio, eh?"

Despite his words, he didn't sound to depressed at the prospect.

Wordlessly, Hinata tucked the box of fuses in her pocket and, bracing herself on the edge, began lowering her feet towards the ladder. She could feel his eyes on her as she stepped down, and once her feet were on the ground, she glanced back to see him following a bit more quickly than she had been. He jumped the last few feet, boots thudding on the tiles, and straightened up to look at her again.

"Hey," he said, voice quiet. "You okay?"

Hinata gave him a look she usually reserved for use during Kiba's more stupid moments, then turned and moved back towards the wall.

"Hey!" Deidara laughed as he began to put his equipment away. "How am I supposed to understand a look that guarded?"

The point is, Hinata thought to herself, you're not. Just like I'm not supposed to understand why you're setting up bombs in the ceiling. And as long as we make it out free of each other, it won't matter if we understand our not.

"Here," Deidara said as he shoved the legs of the ladder together and began swinging it around. "We could try to ram the door down."

Hinata glanced up, semi-amused, but more startled, to see him grinning down at her, eyes so clearly honest that for a minute, she wondered what it would be like to hide nothing from anyone.

"Don't look so sad, Hinata," he ordered. "It puts a damper on my excitement."

Though it took her a minute, she finally decided to question back.

"Why are you excited?" she asked, sliding down the wall into a sitting position once again.

"Why am I excited?" he repeated with a small laugh. "Well, we've only been planning this shit for a year. Of course, I'm not exactly pumped for the idea of it -- I mean, I kinda like this job -- but man, I can't _wait_ to see this building blow."

"Aren't you the h-head of the a-arson investigators?" Hinata asked.

"Yup," he replied with a grin, setting the ladder down against the sinks and turning to close up his work box. "So, you'd think I would hate this shit, right? But nah," he said, crossing the floor to drop down about five feet from her. "I live for the best explosions. You know? Maybe it's because I understand the build-up involved. A lot of work goes into making the good ones. Types of explosives, where they are, when and how they'll detonate. If you layer it up correctly, when you light the fuse, it's true beauty."

He looked at her as he said it, and again, Hinata looked away.

"Enough of that!" he snapped, leaning forward to slide his fingers around her chin, physically jerking her face back towards him. "You're beginning to make me feel ugly," he continued, smirking. "Just look me in the eye for a minute."

So she did. Maybe a little more rebelliously than intended, which surprised her. Hinata Hyuga didn't _show_ rebellion. That was one of the reason why it was so hard to tell anyone about her father. It was one reason why she hadn't questioned Neji when he told her he'd be heading off to the opposite coast for a month-long mission. It was why she didn't disagree more volatility with Shino and Kiba; it was why she didn't tell the man in front of her why they'd been in that old building in the first place.

Now, it was the reason she didn't lean forward and wrap her arms so tightly around his waist that it felt as if neither of them were separate.

That didn't mean that she didn't want to. It was a spur of the moment feeling, an impulse that she did her best to ignore, like most impulses that hit the Hyuga. But she couldn't seem to keep her cheek from pressing itself just a little closer to his hand when his fingers shifted from her chin to her lower cheek.

"I dunno why," he said contemplatively, eyes on Hinata's pale orbs, "but I get the feeling that you're the same way. Like a good blast, I mean."

"Why?" Hinata asked, and he shrugged.

"There's a lot of things ready to explode inside you," he said simply. "If they all go at once, we might have an out-of-control blaze on our hands." He tapped his fingers lightly against her cheek, smiling thoughtfully.

"What makes you say that?" Hinata asked, the tremble in her voice not enough to hide the sudden chill in her tone.

"Oh, I dunno," he grinned, letting his hand drop to her shoulder for a moment before he pulled it back and sat down. "Maybe I'm just imagining things, eh?"

"You are," she said, and let her chin drop to rest on her chest, allowing her long hair to slowly ease forward over her face.

They sat silent for a long time, Hinata steadily growing colder, Deidara intent on watching her. Neither one of them spoke, but it was obvious that Deidara was thinking. She hoped she never found out what about, because his face wasn't exactly cheerful during this time. If anything, the gaze he turned on her just intensified the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, and by the time he finally began moving again, Hinata was positive that her time was up…though she wasn't exactly sure _which_ time.

"Kakuzu should be back in a minute or two," he said, shifting his legs beneath him in preparation to stand. "Get up."

Hinata did so without lifting her head; stay insignificant, a bit of her mind ordered.

"I was thinking about letting you go," Deidara mused. "You seemed like you would never even know who to tell about the bombs. But, now, I just don't know." He shrugged, eyes still locked on the girl before him. "Hinata, I think you're gonna explode," he stated slowly. "And I wanna make sure I see that. You know?" He reached out, sliding his hand beneath her hair and around the back of her neck, ignoring her sudden stiffening. "Who knows?" he sighed. "This might even be the placement of the last bomb."

His fingers slowly tightened around her neck, but she did not lift her head. A flash of annoyance crossed his face, and he continued to wait for her acknowledgement of his action. Unfortunately for him, Hinata happened to be the sort of person who can entirely ignore discomfort, and she refused to look up.

So, with a grim smile, Deidara reached behind her head with his free hand and deftly removed the glove from the hand on her neck. It didn't take the girl long to notice the arrival of sudden warmth, especially at that…one…point…

She gasped harshly and surged forward, head coming up, shocked and frightened eyes meeting Deidara's with blatant disbelief.

_Now_, he told himself, but was suddenly curious about what she was thinking. Did she understand what that point of warmth on the back of her neck was? Or was it animal instinct to shy away from such a deadly feeling?

He pressed his hand closer, and she cringed another step towards him, blinking hard, lips parted as she stared at him. He was smiling again, teeth showing in a feral grin. Hinata swallowed hard, the sound echoing against the walls.

Still smiling, Deidara lifted his free hand to his mouth and began pulling the remaining glove off with his teeth.

"Maybe you should have asked me a little bit more about why Neji Hyuga didn't like me," he mused once the glove was off. The back of his hand was towards her, all tan and smooth and gangly. "You know about _his _ability, right? You should have assumed I had one."

He turned the hand around, as if to wave at her, but it was the _mouth _in the center of his _palm_ that _stuck its tongue out at her_ and waved.

Hinata froze so suddenly that for a laughing moment, Deidara wondered if it had been too much for her to handle. For the fun of it (and to see if she would finally _act_) he brushed the tongue of his right hand -- the one currently cupping the back of her neck -- against her oddly soft skin.

She shuddered, and down went her head, eyes slamming shut.

Deidara paused, than laughed softly, slightly disappointed. _This_ Hyuga had no spine. Sooner or later, she'd explode; this bought of fainting proved that she had no control over her actions and reactions. A good reason to keep her around, then, and not to just satisfy his curiosity as to what went on behind those pale eyes-

"Maybe you should have asked me more about what made Neji and I cousins."

She was speaking, voice faint with anger and resolve. Her head slowly lifted, and he saw the beginnings of a set of pulsing veins on either side of her eyes. "Byakag-"

Deidara squeezed his right-hand fingers just hard enough to apply the right amount of pressure to her release points. Before Hinata could finish her command and fully evoke her Hyuga power, she collapsed in his hand, unconscious.

_How _lame, Deidara thought as his lips began to curl into another smile, the slight disappointment that he hadn't recognized turning into further excitement. He drew her forward, moving the balance of her weight from his hand to both arms. _Because of her…I could _almost_ care less about the upcoming fireworks. _


	3. The Favor

**Corolla**

by **green see-through ghosts**

----

If it wasn't for the man sitting in front of her, Sakura Haruno might have been dead a long time ago. Of course, she'd never admit that, since it happened to be one of the more embarrassing facts that she could recall, but she couldn't deny that she owed him -- nay, his entire family -- a pay-back favor. And, since it _was_ Sasuke Uchiha she was thinking of, Sakura should have known it would come in this form. Uchiha favors were notoriously difficult to repay, and if she'd had any presence of mind as a thirteen year old, she would have refused the help Sasuke offered that one night…not that she would be here to regret it if she had.

"Spit it out, Sasuke," she sighed, smoothing her skirt over her lap as she looked up at the ebony-haired man. She'd given this sort of thing up the minute she'd graduated, and in the ten months since then, she'd hardly thought about the second life she had rejected.

Sort of.

At, least, she tried not to think about it. But, such thoughts could be difficult to repress when one was a low-level secretary at a low-level office-building where one had to put up with all sorts of lewd jokes from one lewd office manager-

"My brother needs an agent," Sasuke said, finally looking up from his papers to meet her jade eyes with his own deep black. "You up for it?"

The look he gave her let her now that he didn't think she was. Though Sasuke knew her well enough to know that she'd never let herself fall out of top-fighting shape, he also knew that she would never be able to forgive the implied insult in his words. Sakura Haruno was a woman of pride, and she wasn't about to let her old teammate insinuate that she was out of touch with her tougher side.

"That depends on what he needs," she said, looking at Sasuke warily. Even though Sakura had hardly met him, she knew that Itachi Uchiha, Sasuke's older brother, was a figure wrapped up in both the super-human organizations that populated the city, and since said organizations were at constant war with each other, any mission he needed help with was bound to be either dangerous, lengthy, or morally-compromising. "What's the mission?"

"I dunno," Sasuke said, then yawned. "You'd have to talk to him."

"Did he say what sort of parameters-"

"No."

Sakura set her lips in a thin line, eyes narrowing as she considered the scant information laid out in front of her. Obviously, there was nothing to make a decision on, especially a decision as big as going back to a lifestyle Sakura had rejected, and both she and Sasuke knew it.

"Go talk to him," Sasuke ordered just as Sakura opened her mouth to decline. "He said he'd have more information if I found anyone willing to help him out." He turned back to the paper-work in front of him, boredom evident in every move he made.

"Sasuke…" He glanced up. "Why don't you do it for him?" she asked hesitantly. They all knew that Sasuke, who had been at a desk job for the past three months during his recuperation from a long-term illness, was more than ready to throw off his chains and get back to business. On the other hand, Sakura was afraid that the minute she got another taste of agent-work, she wouldn't be able to go back to the safer, albeit tedious, lifestyle that she had been caught up in.

"He needs a girl," Sasuke said with a roll of his eyes. "If you want to learn more, just head up to his office at the west police station and ask for Detective Uchiha. If not, go home, and we'll get the idea. Now, if you'll excuse me…" He turned back to his papers for a moment, then lifted his eyes one more time. "And Naruto wanted me to ask you to come over for dinner sometime next week." He looked slightly chagrinned at being his friend's messenger-bearer, but said the words willingly enough, which implied, Sakura guessed, that he wouldn't mind if she did come over.

"Naruto!" she laughed after a moment, surprised by the sudden change of topic. She hadn't seen her other team-mate in a quite a while, and she quickly realized that she had missed him and Sasuke both. "Then, he got back? Safely?"

"Yesterday," Sasuke said, looking annoyed at the reminder.

"How did his mission go?"

"He hasn't stopped bragging since he crossed the door-step," Sasuke muttered. "Idiot." Sakura giggled, and despite his words, a smirk crossed Sasuke's face. Both of them were relieved at their teammate's safe return, even if they didn't show it.

"I'll call you guys after I talk to your brother," Sakura finally said, standing up from the uncomfortable folding chair and grabbing her purse from the desk in front of her. "Who knows; maybe I'll be able to tell Naruto that I have a mission. Heh, that would make him happy!"

"Yeah," Sasuke said, glancing up for the last time. "It would." For a moment, they each took the time to imagine the grinning yelp of joy that would come from the Uzumaki boy; then Sakura smiled, and he nodded and turned back to his work as she left the room.

----

It was about five o'clock when Sakura finally reached the West Konoha Police Station and was led to the office of Detective I. Uchiha, where she was placed in a padded chair and told to wait. During this time, Sakura went over all the stories she'd ever heard about this particular Uchiha, and the tiny amount of personal experience she'd had with him.

It wasn't exactly encouraging.

She had met Itachi Uchiha once, but this meeting was barely long enough for Sasuke to introduce them. She'd been struck by how similar the two brothers looked, but mostly, had been too occupied admiring how lovely Sasuke was when he was annoyed to notice much about the older teen. This bothered her as she sat in the office, because for one thing, she couldn't even remember what had annoyed Sasuke so much, and for another, the infatuation that had caused such foolish behavior was long since over, and knowledge about Itachi would have been much more helpful in the long run. What she did remember was a pair of dark, solemn eyes in a face far too lined to belong to someone only seven years older than she. It was publicly acknowledged that Itachi Uchiha was a true genius, though most people didn't seem to know what this actually meant. There were his obvious achievements -- high-school graduation at thirteen, completion of the police academy at sixteen, head of his department by twenty. That was three years ago, and since then, hardly a week went past when his name was not mentioned in the credits of a completed case. Then again, most of the time, these mentions were never detailed upon, and this was because, according to rumor, the Uchiha was absolutely ruthless in his methods.

Two minutes after the aide had gone in search of Itachi, the door behind her opened…closed. A pair of soft footsteps crossed the floor behind her, and she tilted her head back to look up at the man who had just entered the room. Detective Uchiha was a few inches taller than her, with a pair of eyes very much like his brother's and thick, black hair that was braided down his back, leaving thick chunks loose to frame his face.

Also, like his brother, he was a bit cuter than should have been legal.

"Miss Haruno?"

Sakura stood up and stretched out her hand to accept the handshake held towards her.

"Please, call me Sakura," she said, her tone the cool, calm voice that she always used in the presence of people she did not trust.

"Of course," Detective Uchiha said without a blink, his own tone entirely blank. "I am Itachi Uchiha. I'm sure Sasuke told you about my need of your assistance?" He gestured for her to sit down; as she did so, he circled the desk and dropped down on the edge of his own seat.

"He didn't tell me very much," Sakura said carefully.

"That is because he did not know very much," Itachi replied. "And, neither can I tell you very much unless you agree to take on the mission."

"Well, I can't agree to take the mission if I don't know anything about it," Sakura said lightly. Itachi simply stared at her. "Can I?"

"It's your decision," Itachi said, face empty of expression. "Yes or no, with no backing out."

"Don't you want to know if I'll fit the limits?" Sakura asked curiously.

"If you wouldn't be able to complete it, I wouldn't have requested that my brother ask for your assistance," Itachi said. "I've researched the other candidates, and you are the one I've chosen."

Sakura raised an eyebrow, but Itachi remained impassive. The pink-haired girl looked down after a moment, studying her hands.

The calluses were wearing off.

"Alright," Sakura said. "I'll take the mission. Tell me more about it."

"One moment, please," Itachi said, reached inside his jacket pocket, and withdrew a slim black cell-phone. He flipped it open, dialed a number, and waited for a few moments.

"Um…" Sakura began, but he lifted his hand and motioned for silence.

After a moment, someone on the other end picked up. Itachi didn't bother with a greeting.

"The West Konoha Police Station will explode in exactly thirty minutes. You may evacuate the premises, but we will detonate the explosion whether the building is empty or not. Do not take this call lightly. You have been warned."  
Then he pulled his phone back, snapped it shut, and set it down lightly on the desk in front of him.

"In two minutes, an evacuation order will be given," he stated. "As soon as it comes, you need to move four doors down till you reach the office of P. Fuma. Follow the instructions he gives you."

"That's it?" Sakura asked. "A little abrupt, isn't it?"

"Here," Itachi said, holding a short envelope out towards her. "You'll know when to open it."

Sakura stared at him for a moment, then took the envelope, folded it twice, and stuck it in the tight pouch she kept against her stomach. Itachi looked away as she lifted her shirt, but Sakura was too preoccupied to notice.

"Do you have a point of contact?" she asked. "A number I'll need to call?"

"Your instructions are in the packet," Itachi said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as she looked up.

"Any particular advice?" she asked as she stood, placed her purse on the desk, and began rifling through its contents.

"…go with the flow," he said after a moment. She shot him an incredulous look, and he raised an eyebrow in return. "Trust me. Go with the flow."

"…alright," she said. From her purse, she withdrew her small wallet, which she tucked into the pocket of her jeans (thank god she'd had the though to change before coming!) followed by a silver cell-phone which was placed in her jacket pocket, which was then zipped. With a sigh, she tucked her short hair behind her ears -- if she'd known the mission would begin so quickly, she would have tied it back -- and slid the hair-tie off her wrist to secure the back strands into a tiny pony-tail. She switched the feminine watch on her wrist for a more practical diving watch, removed all jewelry, and finally, pulled the most important package out of her purse.

A .22 Magnum revolver of the extra small sort was tucked into her last pocket; then, she zipped the purse closed and held it out towards Itachi.

"If you can, get that back to my apartment for me," she requested. Itachi, who had watched her preparations wordlessly, nodded and accepted the bag.

He didn't bother telling her that the gun and cell-phone would both be fairly useless.

A few seconds later, the screaming started.

"Now," Itachi ordered, standing up from behind his desk and nodding towards the door.

Sakura moved forward, the excitement of a new mission rising up inside her. But, before she opened the door, she paused and looked back at Itachi.

"You know," she said, "you're not as bed as everyone led me to think you'd be." Then, without waiting for a response, she opened the door, slid outside, and closed it behind her.

Itachi stared after her for a total of eight seconds before a small smile spread across his face.

_That's what __**you**__ think._

This section of his work completed, he pulled out his revolver, removed his badge and officer's jacket, and left his office to begin the next phase of his mission.

------

Sakura moved quickly down the still empty hall, eyes scanning the name-plates on the doors until she reached the office of "P. Fuma, Alias Specialist". Without pause, she wrapped her hand around the door-knob, twisted it to the right, and pushed the door open.

She had just enough time to catch sight of a black-haired woman standing in front of the desk before something hard and heavy came down on the back of her head with a reeeeaaaally painful slam.

Then she blacked out.

-------

At five-oh-five PM, the West Konoha Police Station received a call warning that the premises would explode in exactly thirty minutes. Two minutes later, the evacuation began. Approximately a minute and thirty-five seconds later, shots were heard on the main floor. The shots caused several stampedes, interrupting the before-orderly evacuation. Investigators who ran to the area found Inspector Kakuzu of the laundering investigators dead from five gunshots wounds located in his torso. The shooter was never found, but three minutes after this, a masked man carrying a gun appeared in the holding facility. He shot six times, killing six prisoners on trial for murder, assault, murder, murder, rape, and murder. He then disappeared in the confusion. Recovering the bodies was second priority to evacuating the building; all evidence was lost.

By five-thirty-three, the evacuation was complete.

At five-thirty-five, the explosions began. Within two minutes, the entire complex was in flames, with at least three-quarters of the building blown to pieces by pre-set bombs. The shooter has not been caught, and the police have no clues as to who set the bombs or where they were located.

Though the only concrete casualties are the six prisoners and Inspector Kakuzu, two people have been reported missing by family members, and both were last seen at the police station. They are 1) Temari no Sabaku, a twenty-two year old woman involved in a car accident earlier in the day and, 2) Hinata Hyuga, 17, present at the station for unknown reasons, but involved in an accidental arson earlier in the year.

So far, the searchers have found no bodies, but neither is there any word on their whereabouts.


	4. Faults

I'm not sure if this story is ever going to be completed...let's just say it's not on my list of priorities ;) But, this section had been written for a while, so I decided to post it...

**Corolla**

by **green see-through ghosts**

* * *

In the cold basement of an unknown building, Temari no Sabaku cursed her stupidity.

Not that it's really my fault that retard used a drug on me, she thought angrily, or that that _freak_ Tobi dropped me on his way down the stairs. (which accounted for the throbbing shoulder and bruised/swollen wrist) No, none of _that_ was her fault. The stupidity she cursed was the stupidity for falling at such a lie-level lie as, "You're needed for questioning."

_Jeez, Temari,_ a voice that sounded a lot like Kankuro muttered from behind her eyes. _You're a bigger idiot than I thought._

And _that_ was what angered her, because Temari was no idiot. She'd simply been thrown off balance by the long day and massive destruction around her when Tobi has made his order. And while this was no excuse, to have a drugged piece of cloth shoved in her face moments after being pushed into a tinted-window patrol car…now, _that_ was an unfair punishment. Now, she was bored, cold, in pain, angry, and _being kept waiting_.

Someone would die for this.

After a few more minutes of silence, the heavy door of the room was thrown open. Temari stiffened, every muscle in her body tensing up as she slowly stood from her folding chair. In walked Hidan, now dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of casual jeans, and an older man that she recognized as her father's murderer.

…

"Hey Blondie," Hidan said through a thick yawn, his stark eyes slightly pink with sleep. "A visitor for you." Ignoring Hidan, Temari stared at the snake-eyed man behind him with intense dislike.

"Well, well…look who it is." Long hair, black and silky, and a cruel, laughing voice containing a certain hissing quality gave her goose-bumps on the back of her neck, which was an altogether unpleasant feeling.

"Orochimaru ," Temari said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest as she lifted her chin and sent the psychotic bastard a raised eyebrow that spokes _loads_ more than mere surprise; things were suddenly a bitmore serious than they had been before. So serious, in fact, that she forgot to be angry. "Wow, Hidan, you sure do keep good company," she added, sarcasm thick in her voice, her developing sneer bringing a glint to the snaky eyes of the newcomer.

"Yeah, well, I thinks he's fucking disgusting too," the silver-haired man said, then yawned again. "But Leader told me to bring him down, so I did. Do ya know each other?"

"A bit," Temari said through clenched teeth.

"What are you talking about, Temari?" Orochimaru laughed. "Aren't we _friends_?"

"Well, you do have my thanks for killing my father," she said shortly. "But," and here her eyes narrowed, "I usually hate people like you on default."

Hidan laughed in the ensuing silence.

"See?" he said, glancing back at Orochimaru with a grin. "I told you she's a bitch."

"For once, Hidan, a truly insightful piece of information," Orochimaru replied, eyes narrowing as his vicious smile spread. "But Pein was right. She fits nearly perfectly for what he has in mind. Most women would fail, but this one…" He sized Temari up slowly, and she gritted her teeth, cursing under her breath as she resisted the urge to leap forward and stab his snaky eyes out. The instinct was merely a flash, and to act would have been unbearably foolish; instead, she raised an eyebrow in his direction, eyes slightly narrowed. "She'll do," he laughed, the sound a hysterical cackle in the silence.

"Dude…" Hidan said, eyebrows raised, as he backed away from Orochimaru. "Being that creepy is definitely a sin."

"Thanks for noticing, Hidan," the older man said cheerfully. "Watch her, okay? Someone will come down for you when Pein is ready." He turned away, but paused at the door. "How are your brothers, Temari?"

"Good enough that the minute they knew you're involved in this shit, you're dead," Temari said lightly, employing a tactic she didn't often use -- bragging.

"Oh, darling, I was dead a long time ago," Orochimaru laughed. "But compared to Hidan, I look like an amateur! You really should ask him about his techniques, sweetheart."

"It's no technique," Hidan scoffed, rolling his eyes with the amused half-smile of one who knows more than his opposites in conversation. "If you weren't such a science-minded bastard, you _might_ understand that."

"Enough with the name-calling," Temari snapped, "and keep leaving. Your presence is starting to make me sick." True to her words, the blonde's face was beginning to pale; her hands were shaking, though she hid the evidence by crossing her arms; and her skin was beginning to prickle uncomfortably as with a fever.

"As charming as always," Orochimaru hissed, his chin dropping as he smirked at the shaking girl. Then, he left.

Leaving a very annoyed Temari with a very laid-back Hidan.

"So," the latter drawled after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the wall, "want to hear about my religion?"

"Of _course_ not!" Temari snapped, loosing track of _calm_ in the wake of _disgusted_.

"The _hell_?"

"I don't give a damn about your religion," Temari continued. "And, just so that we're clear, I don't give a damn about you either."

"I never. Thought. You did," Hidan said, one eyebrow cocked upwards.

"Do you realize that if you'd listened to me the first time we heard gunshots, neither of us would be in this position?" _Classic Temari move_, the Kankuro in her head muttered. _Make sure he knows it's his fault. _

"No way you can fucking prove that, Blondie," Hidan snapped, eyes narrowing as he glared at her stubbornly. "Seriously, don't blame me for this shit. It was your own damn self that listened to Tobi."

"I would not have _met_ Tobi if we'd evacuated with everyone else-"

"Seriously, Blondie, how were either of us supposed to know that they were evacuating the fucking building?" Hidan drawled, tilting his head back against the wall with an annoyed sigh. "Don't get your panties in a twist over something neither of us can change."

"…easy for _you_ to say," Temari mumbled, turning away from him to drop back down on the single folding chair. Hidan glanced up, eyes narrowing curiously, as she crossed one leg over the other, lowered her head, and stared at the floor just below her feet with unwavering eyes.

"Please tell me you're not going to bawl."

"I am _not _going to cry," Temari stated, voice cold, as she lifted her head and gave the other occupant of the room a withering glare. "I'm just trying to think of what to do."

"Booooooring."

"Get over it."

Five minutes later, neither of them had moved beyond the continual blink of Temari's eyes and the slow movement of Hidan's fingers on the black rosary around his neck. She hadn't noticed it at the station, but now he wore it over the top of his casual black shirt, and it glittered faintly in the sparse light of the duo of light bulbs screwed into the ceiling. From this distance, Temari wasn't able to tell what it consisted of ; she suspected metal, though she made no move to confirm it. The shine caught a small, hollow circle containing a triangle, the three legs of which looked equal, or at least pretty darn close, in length. Based on Hidan's obsessive fingering and the tenderness with which he touched the circle, Temari guessed that it was a symbol of his religion, but she didn't recognize it in the slightest. Of course, this didn't mean much, she thought dryly, since she was undoubtedly a nonreligious person.

Temari began to grow cold again. She shifted in her chair, uncrossing her arms and pulling her sleeves down over her hands for a small amount of warmth before re-crossing them. The movement irritated her swollen wrist, and she winced as her fingers tightened around her sweater sleeve, but she made no move to examine it. There had been a variety of breaks and sprains in the Sabaku family since Temari had become the head -- two boys of a semi-similar age and rather psychotic constitution generated rough play -- but the last time she'd felt a pain like this was several years ago when a out-of-control escape across the rooftops of the lower city had resulted in a sprained ankle and several impressive bruises ranging from lower back to neck. The girl was confident enough in her small amount of medical background to be sure that it was not badly broken, but the injury could have ranged anywhere from a sprain to a hairline fracture, and she had no way of finding out.

"You know, you're shitty company," Hidan muttered after another ten minutes of silence.

"Pardon me for not currently being at my best," Temari said, never lifting her focused eyes to meet his annoyance.

"Nah, I don't want your best, Blondie," he replied with a frown. "I just want some conversation. I'm a chatty fellow, you know."

"…yes. I did got that impression."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

Temari raised an eyebrow. "I never said there was."

"Huh. That face coulda fooled me."

"Like I said," Temari began, but Hidan cut her off with a nonchalant wave and a short sight.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're just trying to figure out what to do. Would it help if I told you that there's jackshit you can do until Leader decides to call you up?"

"No. Not really."

"Stupid bitch," he laughed, the inflection of his voice showing that he attached no offense to the title. "There's no way out of this one."

"And your point?" Temari challenged, finally turning her glare on him. Nothing on whether she believed him or not, but then, Temari wasn't about to tell him the inkling of a plan that was forming in the back of her mind.

"So…maybe it's time to give up." He looked away from her, one hand brushing against the white wall, the other curling around his rosary.

"Heh," Temari muttered, a resolved smile flitting across her iron features as she returned her gaze to the section of floor just above her feet. "It's going to take a lot more than that to make me give up."

Hidan was silent for another minute; then, he began to chuckle.

"Good deal. I was gonna be pissed if you were _that_ easy to convince." He laughed again and thumped the wall hard with his index finger; the small thud echoed through the room, accenting the excitement of his words. "Maybe this will be more fun than I thought."

"…what?" Temari asked, blinking at the steady floor.

"Converting you," he said, and thumped the wall again.

A half-second later, as Temari's head was rising to stare at Hidan with the incredulous look of the non-believer, the shabby door swung open, ushering in a blossom of warm air.

"Hidan. Bring the prisoner to Leader's office." The voice came from the shadows behind the door, and Temari quickly glanced that way, though she was unable to see anything. But, for some reason, Hidan didn't seem to have the same problem.

"Sure thing," he said casually. "But shit, Kisame, what happened to you?"

"Shut up." The heavy thud of footsteps signified that the door-opener was leaving, but the door remained open.

Hidan laughed and stood fully to his feet, stretching his pale arms over his head with a wide yawn.

"Come on, Blondie. Time to face the music."

He stepped forward, moving towards her corner with his hands held out -- almost as if he was planning on helping her up. But, he slowed when she stood quickly, if not a little hastily, and sent such an annoyed look in his direction that he almost backed off. Here was one unaccustomed to receiving offers of assistance, and thus, unaccustomed and clumsy at accepting and declining them. Hidan raised an eyebrow, but she was already looking away from him, her set eyes following the tail-end of the shadow sliding away from the door.

"Who is that?"

"That?" Hidan laughed, glancing in Kisame's direction with a shake of his head. "A freaky half-shark mutant creep, or something. The dipshit doesn't understand the first thing about-"

"Hurry up, Hidan, and while you're at it, _shut_ up."

"Right," the silver-haired man said with a short laugh. "Let's go, Blondie."


	5. Questionable Answers

well! I never planned on continuing this! But, I am taking a break from serious writing, and thus, have returned, however briefly, to the world of fanfiction. Also, I am annoyed at myself for leaving this unfinished.

.....

Questionable Answers

**Corolla **by **green see-through ghosts**

* * *

There were some things that Hinata did not want an answer to.

One of them was to the question that her animal curiosity was posing about _why_ there was a mouth in the hand that was currently gripping hers. For one thing, the idea of it was simply too creepy to even consider. It opened up wide ranges of thought, from kinky to cannibal and everything in-between, and Hinata shuddered to think about how odd the formation of his body must be when compared to hers.

What kind of person had mouths in their hands? Well, then again, what kind of person had eyes that could see in a three-hundred-sixty degree range from one position? Perhaps these types of people would be well suited for each other, but Hinata felt that if Neji had hated the man currently holding her hand, then there was a good chance that he had done unforgivable things. Neji might be a solemn, hopeless, annoying whiner (sometimes) but he was also a fairly good judge of character once he got past his preconceptions. Then again, perhaps he'd had preconceptions about Deidara? Such a thing would be easy if you caught sight of the two mouths where they shouldn't be…but then, perhaps their personalities were simply personalities that clashed.

Perhaps hers was a personality that would compliment both of theirs.

Another question she did not want to know the answer to was the question of where she was. Because, for the moment, it happened to be very comfortable and, along with the hand clasping her own, there was a warm presence on her skin that she knew had to be sunshine. It felt weak -- probably the last rays of a setting sun, by the heat of it -- but it reminded Hinata of better days. Days when Father had not been angry, and Neji had still been around. Sometimes, they'd had family gatherings out in the huge back-yard of the Hyuga mansion, and though there'd been games and food and talk and laugher, much of the time, Hinata would find herself laying in the trees a bit away from the rest, soaking up the sunlight and wondering if she could store its power to use later on. Maybe, she mused, that was happening now, and while there was no real sunlight, that forgotten warmth of better days was radiating outward.

Maybe, she thought, she was still loopy from the insane pain that had shut down her mind a few hours ago.

She didn't want to know why her hair was pulled back, because that would make her question the finger tracing the outline of her healing bruise. Usually, when she slept, her hair formed a giant mess around her face, an extra layer of protection beneath her pillows and blankets and sheets. Though it sometimes threatened to strangle her -- not to mention suffocate -- she enjoyed the sense of privacy it gave her. Long hair was so useful, she'd decided, in hiding your feelings. Go down with a tear, spend a moment in quiet, come up with a smile! Like a changing curtain she could carry around with her wherever she went. So why didn't she mind that her hair was pinned beneath her head in a silky, twisted rope that wasn't of her doing?

Well, there was that finger on her cheek…

And the last thing that Hinata positively did not want to know?

"Observers say the explosions began on the second floor, in the very west wing. Blueprints say that the bombs, made of nothing but dynamite and timers, could have been placed in the floor of the second level, but police chief Tsunade says that this is just one of many possibilities. The investigators are leaning towards a more subtle placement, such as…"

The person whose hand was holding hers, whose finger was stroking her cheek, and whose lap she was half in, chuckled, the sound a low rub of movement across the empty room, and switched the radio off.

No, Hinata did not want to know that the bombs had gone off. Because that meant that she was no longer in the police station; that her friends were probably not nearby to help her; that the explosionist Deidara was psychotic enough to kidnap her; that any minutes now, she could be killed or maimed or _worse_ at the hands of a man who…had mouths in his hands?

Any more answers, and Hinata figured she might as well break down in tears while she had the chance.

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:) Hopefully, updates will come, though I doubt there'll be a schedule.


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